Confidence
by Ombree
Summary: Prompt: Stood up by your date so someone just sits down and pretends they're your date so that people stop throwing you pitying looks and it ends up being a great date. Naruto Secret Santa 2017; Tenten centric, Tenten dressed up, cute, and fluffy.


x.x.x.x  
Event: Naruto Secret Santa Project  
Secret Santa for JellyStraws on Tumblr  
Request: Tenten centric; Tenten dressed up; Cute and fluffy  
Prompt: stood up by your date so someone just sits down and pretends they're your date so that people stop throwing you pitying looks and it ends up being a great date

* * *

There's hope she's just being overly sensitive as she sits at the table intended for two. Her dates a no show, and she's done her best to play within denial. She questions if she's said something wrong for her date to have stood her up. They had seemed to hit it off, but there had been the subtle hesitation when it came to their dinner plans. The urge to rise from her seat and pull on her coat dances with each second that ticks by. There's excuses pouring within her mind that they were just held up, that she wasn't actually being stood up, but she's not one to ignore the signs when her eyes fall upon her unanswered texts.

The longer she sits in this chair the harsher the stares of pity from those around her feel. Finger fumble with her phone, and the long list of regrets she has about this whole thing are what follow the poorly made excuses she had made for her date. She's not even registering the soft drum of her foot upon the floor— _it's a subconscious habit after all_ . Eyes of cinnamon shift upon the entrance, and fingers tug upon the thigh length skirt of deep rich red as she begins the process of trying to decide just how long it would take her to make a run for the door.

Another tick of the clock and she's just about to raise from her seat. She's caught by the pull of a chair and the seating of one male— _and it's very much not her date_. The drumming of her foot stops, and cinnamon can't stop themselves from running across this person so unknown. Chocolate strands, possibly a shade darker than her own locked within a braid, and eyes of pearl immediately catch her attention. He's dressed classic—he looks good in his muted blue button up, and beige colored sweater cardigan— _and he's saying something_. Embarrassment floods her cheeks now realizing she's tuned him out just to gape at him. Shutting her mouth is quick as she's leaning forward, "Ah—"

"Sorry to have kept you waiting. Traffic was horrible." his voice is far smoother than it should be allowed and there's a hint of a grin upon his lips.

"It's nothing—uh. . ." she's shifting her eyes as her voice trails off.

Those eyes once harsh upon her with pity look on in curiosity, and then there's the low tone that grabs her attention once more, "Neji."

Lashes flutter in slow recognition, and then she's dropping her own name, "Tenten." fingers lose their place upon her skirt to play with the sleeve of her white scoop neck sweater.

The grin that dared to hint upon his lips finally paints itself across his face. He's looking absolutely smitten with the drop of her name, and then a wave of fingers to gather the waiters attention. His choice in soba with dried fish catches her interest, and she's following right behind with a simple order of tempura udon. It's awkward at first—the shared glances between pearl and cinnamon, and the lingering silence after the waiter has left. She's not even sure how he's ended up sitting at her table, and she's unsure if clearing her throat is the correct way to cut through the silence.

"So, what brings you here tonight?" her cinnamon seek to look anywhere but him as they look around the restaurant.

"Hm, figured you could use some company." the hum that vibrates from his throat is what's shifts her eyes upon him briefly.

"You didn't need to." the twitch of her mouth comes at his questionable pity.

"Then I did it so I could have some company." it's that intake of air and him turning his head in her direction to settle the matter.

She wants to object but she'll follow his lead—it's not like it could get much worse if she did. He's _confident_ there's no mistaking that. He's calm as if this is nothing out of the ordinary, and she can only hope she'll unwind enough to follow the pace he's making. He only gives the smallest of smirks, and the occasional smile as he leads them from one conversation to the next. He's simple in what he asks—there's a subtle hesitation she notes as if he's doing his best to avoid prying too deep. He's not demanding as he sets to see who he's chosen to save from embarrassment. She's not one to beat around the bush either and the occasional response she makes has him raising a brow and then that grin paint itself across his face. She almost feels comfortable enough to fall into the habit of playing with her hair locked within the loose braid.

They cross those get to know topics—ages, what they do for a living, hobbies, and interests. He's a year younger than her, he has a desk job that he claims is nothing too impressive, he practices marital arts, and he favors his weekends free. There's no missing the way he bites his lip to hide his grin when she tells him she's one for archery, and has, as she puts it, 'wicked' aim at darts. She's caught his attention when she lets out her love of detective novels.

"I take it you read the classics then?" he says as the server brings their food in front of them, "Doyle a favorite?"

"He is, but I'm also fond of Chandler, and Phillips." she can't seem to remove her eyes from him as she brings the wheat noodles to her mouth.

"Phillips?"

"The Ice Harvest—it's a classic noir." she's amused at how he eats his soba so— _proper_?

"Ah, maybe I'll look into it." he's letting out a hum within his response before taking a bite of the dried fish.

The pace he had set is one she's fully submerged within. The embarrassment and hesitation from when this started has washed away, and she's finding she's enjoying this get-to-know session their holding. This man is smart, and that confidence makes itself known with every move he makes, and every answer he provides. He had said his job was of nothing important but his table manners make her question such a thing, and the air about him dares to defy what he's claimed. The dab of the napkin upon his mouth makes her all the more certain she's not wrong. They click though and that's more than enough for her.

They dismiss dessert and he cuts her off in saying it's one check not two. He's intending to pay for her meal and she can't stop the scowl upon her face as the waiter seeks to bring what he's said.

"You don't have to pay for me. You've helped me out enough." she's giving a pointed look his way and there's no doubt he's brushing it off as he pulls his wallet from his back pocket.

"Men should always pay." there's that confidence making it all the more clear he's not one to back down— _she's stubborn though, and she's had more than her fair share of pity for one night._

"I can pay for myself. I don't want to owe you more than I already do."

"Another date will suffice." he's pulled his card, and he's shifting his eyes off the waiter who has brought their check to give her his own look making it clear he's not playing—she's not buying into though. He's definitely gotta be joking.

It's enough to quiet her down, and more than enough when he's rising from the table first to slide her coat from the chair. She's not sure what makes it so easy to follow his lead— _it's gotta be that confidence she's almost sure of that._ She's sliding her arms within it, and taking the gentlemanly offer. Fastening the buttons gives him enough time to finish laying the tip upon the table, and then press a hand onto her back. It's also enough to make her cheeks burn with just a dust of pale pink as he leads them out the doors not missing a beat.

She's questioning how enchanted she's become with this male in such a short amount of time. He's intriguing and she likes that. He's _confident_ but he's not demeaning. He might just be the right amount of all of it if she had to be honest. Leading seems to be a natural quality as he asks where she's parked, and as they make their way to the car he's making the simplest remarks about the food they've just had.

This male standing at her car with her was not what she had planned for the night— _but she's far from complaining_. His hands make their way within his pockets as if he's expecting, and the momentary silence that lingers is but a second or two before he's opening his mouth again, "You never answered me on having another date."

The flutter of lids comes and she's just now realizing he _was_ serious in what he said—in what little time she's known him she feels as though she should have caught onto that, "Oh, uh, yeah I'd like that." She's reaching for her phone tucked away within her coat. The act of exchanging numbers makes her wonder if that tint of pink has deepened as she dares to open her mouth, "I had a good time."

There's no explaining the continued lingering of her eyes upon him, and the shift of her weight upon legs clothes in black tights follows it. There's a wonder if she can delay this from ending right this moment. That grin paints itself across his features so easily, and a softening look follows in its place.

The hum that falls from him makes a puff of chilled air float within the air between them for just a few more of those seconds. He grabs the handle of her car door opening it for her and showing off more of that gentlemanly charm. She slides within the seat before he dares to lean towards her, "I did too."

 _He absolutely makes her want to stay_ , _but all good things have to come to an end_.

There's the hesitant farewells, and him finally closing the door for her. It's not until there's some distance between him and the car before she's tapping her face with her hands and letting out a noise.

First meetings were awkward and this one was no different. He was _confident_ , and he was charming. He held some traditional values with all of those actions he's displayed. It all seems a little too good to be true to be honest—that's okay though because he had asked for a second date, and the chime of her phone a second later has her grinning.

His names flashed across her lock screen with the notification, and her fingers are quick to grab her phone.

 _My god was he confident_ —he's already asking for her schedule.


End file.
